


My Man Merlin

by gallopingmelancholia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: AU--My Man Godfrey, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe--Classic Film Fusion, M/M, My Man Godfrey but gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24243622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallopingmelancholia/pseuds/gallopingmelancholia
Summary: "Good morning, sir," Merlin said, stopping by Arthur's bedside. Arthur's blonde head lifted off the pillow, seemingly costing Arthur much effort. His eyes focused blearily on Merlin's face and he stared a few seconds in confusion."Who're you?""The new butler.""No you're not. What happened to Merlin?""I am Merlin."Arthur sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, looked Merlin up and down, and smiled widely."Merlin! What happened to your beard?""Razor attacked it, there was nothing I could do.""And you've got a new suit!""Yes. Thank you, I'll pay you back out of my wages.""Don't be silly. You look downright decent! Almost like an actual servant!""That was the idea."**A homeless Merlin Emrys is hired on as the Pendragon family's new butler after saving Arthur's life. Arthur is a nuisance. It's the film My Man Godfrey but gay.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 182





	My Man Merlin

Merlin had seen some posh houses in his day, but he hadn't seen anything this ludicrously extravagant since the tour of Buckingham Palace he'd taken when he was a lad. The effect of splendor and luxury was spoilt somewhat by the neighing of a horse from somewhere nearby, somewhere definitely _inside_ the house, but nevertheless. Fancy. Merlin took off his coat.

"I'll just hang this up for you," said the housekeeper, appearing from nowhere. On the coat hook closest to the door, Merlin noticed. Did she think he'd be leaving in a hurry? He suspected she'd been through this several times before.

"My name's Merlin, I'm the new butler."

"Yes, I know."

"You've been expecting me?"

"No. There's always a new butler this time of day."

Ah. "Is there a place to put my things?" he said, gesturing to his suitcase.

"Don't get ahead of yourself. If you're still here after breakfast I'll show you to your chambers. Might want to wait to unpack, though. Save yourself some time and energy."

"What's your name?"

"Gwen."

"Any tips to help me last past breakfast?"

"Constant vigilance. This family has a tendency to keep you on your toes."

"That's good to know, thank you."

A bell rang, then another, then another.

"And we're off to the races. Breakfast. Take this tray up to the first landing, second door on the right. Lord Pendragon will pitch a fit if his coffee is cold. Hurry, man, hurry!"

Merlin did his best to walk quickly, though his new shoes were too tight and his new suit too loose. The plates and cups and saucers rattled against the tray. He arrived at the door without spilling any of the tea or porridge onto the newspaper and letters beside them on the tray, something of which he was absurdly proud, and knocked before entering. A grunt from within the room responded, which Merlin took as a sign to enter. He did, placing the tray on the side table, then bowing his head.

"Your breakfast, Lord Pendragon."

Lord Pendragon immediately took the newspaper and looked at Merlin sharply.

"Who're you?" he said.

"Merlin Emrys, sir. The new butler."

"Since when?"

"Since you hired me last night, sir. After the incident with your son, if you'll remember."

"I don't remember, but never mind, out now." He didn't look up from the newspaper.

"Will you be needing anythi—"

"No. Get out."

"As you wish, sir." He bowed his head and exited quickly. Gwen seemed surprised to see him return so soon and in such a placid mood.

"I didn't hear any shouting. He usually shouts at the new ones."

"He was very curt. He told me to get out, but he just meant the room, right? Not the house?"

"If you'd been fired you'd be sure of it, trust me. Must be a good news day." Another bell rang shrilly. Gwen handed him another tray, this one loaded with a glass of water and a grapefruit.

"Lady Morgana's room is on the second landing, second door on the left. Tread carefully."

How could anyone be cheerful with such a meager breakfast? Merlin had enough experience to know he couldn't. Rich people could afford to buy as much food as they needed and more but still ate as much as peasants, but in the name of vanity and fashion rather than poverty. Didn't make sense. He knocked on Morgana's door and entered, then ducked out quickly as a spiked heel was flung at his face.

"Who are you? Get out! How dare you enter my room before I'm dressed? If I see you again I'll have you arrested and don't think I can't. "

The door slammed behind him.

"Lady Morgana is not a morning person," Gwen informed him upon his return to the kitchen.

"She seems like she's not an anytime person."

"No, she's really quite lovely. She's just—a bit of a handful sometimes."

The third bell rang again.

"Arthur. Right next to Morgana's room." Gwen loaded up a tray with a bowl of porridge, orange juice, tea, toast, sausage, and eggs. Before Arthur's door he paused and took a deep breath, then knocked. A sleepy moan bade him enter.

"Good morning, sir," Merlin said, stopping by Arthur's bedside. Arthur's blonde head lifted off the pillow, seemingly costing Arthur much effort. His eyes focused blearily on Merlin's face and he stared a few seconds in confusion.

"Who're you?"

"The new butler."

"No you're not. What happened to Merlin?"

"I am Merlin."

Arthur sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, looked Merlin up and down, and smiled widely.

"Merlin! What happened to your beard?"

"Razor attacked it, there was nothing I could do."

"And you've got a new suit!"

"Yes. Thank you, I'll pay you back out of my wages."

"Don't be silly. You look downright decent! Almost like an actual servant!"

"That was the idea."

Arthur straightened up and gestured to Merlin to place the tray on his lap. He patted the bed next to him.

"Sit and eat with me."

"I'm not hungry."

"Well then sit and watch me eat."

"Is that entirely proper?"

"Who cares?"

Fair enough. Merlin sat at the foot of Arthur's bed and nervously fussed with the buttons on his sleeves.

"How is Gaius?"

"Good. Seems happy to have me off his couch finally. He's glad that I'll be a contributing member of society instead of a fixture in his front room like I have been for the past few months."

"Have you moved your things in yet?"

"No, I haven't even seen my quarters yet."

"Well that won't do. After breakfast I'll show them to you."

"Thank you, sir."

Arthur smiled goofily. "Ooh, I kind of like that. Makes me sound important. Normally I'd insist you call me Arthur, but I think 'sir' suits me."

"Should've known you'd get puffed up at the slightest hint of deference," Merlin said, smiling as Arthur dripped orange juice on his bare chest from grinning too widely to keep all of it in his mouth.

A neighing sound made its way into Arthur's chamber.

"I wasn't aware you kept stables," Merlin said, standing to look out the window. He saw a garage designed to hold motorcars, but no evidence of an equine form of transport.

"We don't. That horse is in the library."

"Did you ride him in there or has he heard about your excellent collection of first-edition Swifts? I must ask him his opinion on the Houyhnhnms."

"I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about, but you're free to read any of the books in the library. Once you've removed our guest from it. Hopefully before Father walks in and sees him."

"Of course. Where will I be returning this horse?"

As if on cue, the doorbell rang.

"I believe that's for you, Merlin," Arthur said through a mouthful of sausage.

* 

Merlin settled into his new life as butler to the Pendragons fairly quickly and relatively easily. After three days Gwen seemed satisfied that he wouldn't be dismissed or quit and began showing him the ropes and even chatting in a very friendly way. She was the housekeeper now, but she'd been hired as a maid from an actual service, not as a charity project and vote of thanks for saving Arthur from drowning in Gwaine's swimming pool. It'd been sheer luck he'd been at the party anyway—Gwaine, an old friend and ex-flame (if two dates and three awkward kisses made people "flames"), had run into him and invited him over, even though he hadn't seen him for years and Merlin was now essentially homeless. Ostensibly Merlin was there to perform magic tricks, but no one showed any interest, so he took the opportunity to eat as much free food as possible and nick as much as could fit in his pockets. The mess he'd made of his clothes jumping in after Arthur had caused much embarrassment and good-natured laughter once everyone saw canapés floating in the pool. The job was not particularly strenuous, though it did have its odd moments. Arthur and Morgana could be a bit...eccentric at times. Morgana's temper ran hot and cold, and she and Arthur were always competing in one form or another. Uther was mostly at work and required quiet at home, though he seldom got it. Strict, humorless, and as stiff as one of the pillars on his mansion's extremely tasteful facade, it was clear that any exuberance his children had acquired had come to them from their mother. She must have been quite a woman, and more than likely half mad. Arthur and Morgana were exhausting to keep up with. Merlin did not envy whoever'd had the misfortune of being their nanny.

Merlin proved to be a deft butler. He learned quickly and was able to rein in his clumsiness and, with more difficulty, his smartass remarks. He became adept at anticipating the needs and desires of the members of the Pendragon household and to have the necessary items or observations or favors on hand when the moment came. And he had an unusual way of ingratiating himself with everyone. Not a person—besides Morgana—who spoke with Merlin and saw his eyes sparkle could dislike him. Everyone who showed up to the numerous soirées the Pendragons held seemed naturally disposed to like Merlin. Others proved to like him to the point that it began to interfere with his work. "Others," of course, means "Arthur."

Merlin did not seek out Arthur while he was fulfilling duties around the house like polishing silver or restocking the liquor cabinet or tidying up the library, which he did more often than was necessary, dawdling in the stacks, lurking among the mostly old volumes, but, more often than not, Arthur would be present. Arthur would often come into the room while Merlin was engaged in his tasks and offer a running commentary and such helpful suggestions as "You've missed a spot, dingus."

"You can put that red seven on the black eight," Merlin would respond, referring to Arthur's mostly ignored game of solitaire set out on the library table, or simply swat at him with the dust cloth.

Once while lingering in the sitting room shortly after his arrival, Merlin tentatively plinked out a few notes on the grand piano. It was surprisingly in tune, considering Merlin hadn't heard anyone ever play it. He sat down and played one of his favorite Jerome Kern pieces, after the first few bars giving in and even singing along quietly.

Just as he reached the emotional climax of the song, two hands sharply jabbed him in the ribs from behind while someone shouted his name loudly into his ear. He might have involuntarily shrieked in surprise, though he'd deny making any such high-pitched noise later. As it was, he nearly fell off the piano bench. Arthur sniggered very loudly and laughed outright when Merlin turned to face him, still wearing an expression of surprised panic, which quickly turned to annoyance.

"You should have seen your face, mate," Arthur guffawed, then imitated the squeal Merlin had allegedly made and laughed again.

Merlin did not laugh along, though a smile was fighting to make its way to lighting up his whole face instead of just his eyes. Arthur's giggles eventually died down, and Merlin said, "That wasn't funny, Arthur."

"On the contrary, it was."

"No, I have a heart condition. Any sudden shock like that could set off an attack. You could've just had a dead butler on your hands. Or on your floor, more accurately."

Arthur's smile vanished.

"Merlin, I am so sorry, I didn't know. I didn't cause any damage, did I? Do you need a glass of water or something? You can lie down on this couch if you're feeling a bit peaky. Here, let me help you," and he manhandled Merlin off of the bench and halfway across the room to set him carefully down on a loveseat with thick red cushions and entirely too many pillows. He propped up Merlin's feet and dashed across the room to pour a glass of water from the pitcher on the sideboard, all the while apologizing and calling himself a number of names, many of them involving the words "stupid" "insensitive" "prat" and "dollophead." He gave the glass to Merlin and knelt worriedly as he drank. When he finished the glass, Arthur took it from his hands and set it carefully down.

"How do you feel?"

"Better," he said weakly.

"Do I need to call Gaius? Do you need the rest of the day off? I'll explain it to my father if you need more time to rest. Do you have any medication? Is there anything I can get you?"

"Cup of tea, maybe," he said, and coughed.

Arthur jumped up and ran to the kitchen, which was empty. He searched for cups, a kettle, anything, but couldn't find anything. He'd hardly ever been in the kitchen. He rushed back to Merlin.

"I'm so sorry, it's Gwen's day off, could you tell me where everything is and how to make it, and I swear, you'll have a cup of tea soon."

Merlin rolled his eyes and stood. Arthur reached toward him almost involuntarily to steady him.

"Should've known you couldn't make even a simple cup of tea, you silly berk. Come on, then," he said, walking toward the kitchen, as sure and steady as ever.

"Are you sure you're fit to walk? You could sit down and just tell me how to do it, I'm very good with directions."

"You most certainly aren't, you'll set the whole house on fire."

"But what about your heart thing?"

"Yeah, I don't have a heart condition. I made it up to make you feel bad. The kettle is kept he—"

After he escaped from Arthur's headlock, he made them a pot of tea and got out Arthur's favorite biscuits as a peace offering.

"I didn't know you could play," Arthur said some time later.

"Yep. Not very well, though."

"That was my mother's piano. I don't know why we still have it, no one ever plays it, except for at parties, which we never have anymore either. Not proper parties, with an orchestra, anyway. Father always keeps it in tune, though."

"There's not a lot sadder than an out of tune piano," Merlin said.

"She wasn't very good at it either. But she was always playing anyway. Morgana got really good at it just to spite her, I think. She doesn't play anymore."

"I shouldn't have played anything. It's not really my place."

"Nonsense. Play whenever you like. Once you're done with your chores."

Merlin laughed. "They're not _chores_. I'm not a farmhand. They're _duties_."

"Well, it's about time you get back to your _duties_ , _Merlin_ ," Arthur said as bossily as possible. "I'm having Gwaine, Percy, Leon, and Elyan over, so could you set up a table for cards, and I hope there are enough spirits and snacks. Did Gwen leave any peanuts or pretzels or crisps or something out for us?"

"Of course she did. I'll see to it."

"See that you do, or I'll let Father send you back to Gaius."

"Your father loves me. He couldn't do without me."

"He thinks you're rubbish, as do I. Completely useless."

"It must be my charm and boyish good looks that's kept me around, then."

At this Arthur very pointedly gave a comically large eye roll. Merlin got out the snacks and placed them on a tray, and they were much appreciated by Arthur's friends when he placed them in the center of the round poker table a few hours later.

"Merlin!" shouted Percy. "Nice to see you!"

"What're you doing in that ridiculous monkey suit?" asked Gwaine.

"Do you not remember anything that goes on at your parties? He's our butler now."

"That's...weird, innit? You any good?"

"He's horrible. Absolutely frightful," Arthur said.

"Mate, aren't you younger than Arthur? Butlers are supposed to be the age of your granddad and walk about like they've got a stick up their arse. They're not supposed to be young blokes like us," said Gwaine. "And you don't even have experience. Shouldn't you be a manservant or something first?"

"Merlin as my personal manservant? Perish the thought. That'd be horrible," said Arthur.

Merlin merely smiled.

"You should join us," Leon said to general agreement.

"I don't think that'd be entirely proper, but thank you."

"Proper," Gwaine clucked. "It's odd, mate. We've gone to parties together. We've been skinny dipping together. You shouldn't be serving me, I've seen your cock!"

"So you do remember at least one thing from your parties, then" Elyan said.

Merlin flushed and looked at everyone but Arthur. "Is everyone all set on drinks?"

Everyone was, as he'd literally just served them, and still resisting their entreaties to join them, Merlin excused himself, citing other duties to attend to. Arthur kept calling him back, asking for drinks or to change the record in the gramophone or for more snacks, and Merlin traded a few jokes, but mostly said nothing, feeling very awkward about the whole thing.

Finally Arthur said, "Merlin, do you have any other clothes? Something less formal, like for your day off?"

"Yes."

"Go change into them. You're taking the night off."

"I couldn't—"

"Fine. You're fired."

"What?"

"You're fired. Now come play with us."

"I don't want to play with you, I'm not in the mood, I've just lost my job."

"Then get incredibly drunk to take your mind off it."

"No thanks."

"Fine. Merlin, you're rehired. You start tomorrow morning. Now take off that jacket and play cards with your friends."

When Merlin still dithered, Elyan and Percy held him down while Gwaine took off his jacket and tie and placed him forcefully in a chair beside Arthur's. Leon set a drink in front of him.

"Drink it."

"I don't think I should. I have work in the morning."

"No you don't, you start in the afternoon," Arthur butted in.

"Drink it. You're three drinks behind us at least, mate. Catch up," Leon said.

Merlin drank it (a gin and tonic), and Leon fixed him a martini next, and after that was gone, an old fashioned. He beat Arthur in several hands and took a fair deal of the kitty. Arthur slung his arm around Merlin's shoulder and they stood up and walked around the room together, Arthur drunkenly chattering away as if they were the oldest friends in the world, Merlin tipsily agreeing with everything he said. Someone mentioned they loved swimming and wished the Pendragons had a pool. They were so rich, why didn't they at least have a swimming pool?

Which was how Arthur and his friends ended up climbing into the garden fountain fully clothed, splashing, wrestling, shouting, and laughing. Merlin tried to stay on the sidelines, but Arthur dragged him in and held him underwater almost longer than was strictly safe, but Merlin could hold his breath a long time and didn't really mind.

"You'll be paying to have this suit cleaned," Merlin told him when he could breathe again.

"You should have taken it off before getting in the water. Take it off now."

"Nope."

"You can skinny dip with Gwaine and not with me? I'm insulted! I owe you my life—we have a special bond, you know, one that transcends propriety and clothing and all that nonsense. Now show me your cock."

"Keep your voice down, Morgana's window is open. You'll wake her up."

"Don't care."

"You should. You upset her today, she'll be gunning after you now."

"Don't care. Cock!" he screamed, reaching for Merlin's again.

"No, Arthur. You're my boss's son. It'd be weird. This is weird enough," he said, walking through the chest-deep water to the edge of the fountain. He dragged Arthur along with him, as Arthur was clinging to his back. The others were crawling out to go play billiards, and Merlin had every intention of following them, but Arthur jerked him backwards and they toppled over. By the time they surfaced everyone was gone.

"They're going to drip all over the carpets. I'll have to clean it up or Uther will have a fit," Merlin complained. They'd made it to the edge of the fountain and were leaning their backs against it, not ready to get out of the cool water just yet. Well, Merlin sat against the wall and Arthur mostly leaned against Merlin, the shallow water lapping against their stomachs and chests gently, their legs resting on the downward slope of the fountain floor. Merlin tried not to think about the solid warmth of Arthur's body next to him. He looked straight ahead, talking of this and that while occasionally disentangling his fingers from those of Arthur, who kept trying to hold his hand or put his arm around his shoulders or waist. Finally, he said, "I'm getting pruny. Let's go inside." He got to his feet and knelt to extend his hand to Arthur, who hadn't said anything or even moved his head to look at anything other than Merlin for the past ten minutes at least. Suddenly, Arthur grabbed Merlin's hand and dragged it down around his back. Merlin stumbled forward and caught hold of the ledge on either side of Arthur's shoulders, and Arthur held Merlin's face in his hands and pulled him in for a kiss. Merlin jerked away quickly, his heart pounding out of control. The kiss had sent a jolt through him like a cartoon cat sticking its tail in an electrical socket. Like that, but in a more pleasant way that set his body humming. Arthur pouted and tried to bring him back down again.

"Arthur, no."

"Yes." Another tug, this one on his shirtfront. Merlin resisted.

"You are drunk, sir, so drunk you've forgotten that I'm your servant, not your friend, and certainly not your boyfriend. This is improper."

"Is not."

"Is so. Come on, get up. It's time to go to bed. You'll sleep this off and in the morning you won't remember wanting to kiss me."

"Of course I will because I'll still want to kiss you in the morning, _Merlin_."

"You won't."

"I shall."

"Are you going to get up by yourself or do I have to carry you?"

"The second one."

"Fine." And Merlin lifted Arthur up—with difficulty, for Arthur refused to shift his weight at all—into a fireman's carry and slung him over his shoulder. He staggered out of the fountain, into the house, and upstairs with Arthur on his back.

"I hope you're happy. Now I'm going to have to mop up the floors before the water ruins the wood," he said to make conversation as they reached the first landing.

Arthur said nothing.

They reached Arthur's room and Merlin flicked on the light. The room was surprisingly tidy, but still a mess. Merlin dumped Arthur onto his bed, and Arthur sprang up to his knees and caught Merlin's hand.

"Don't go."

"Have to."

"Please." He tugged Merlin's hand to force Merlin to face him and looked up at Merlin, tenderness and longing mingling in his expression. A pang of regret shot through Merlin, but he had no choice. He shook his head.

"I can't, Arthur. It's against the rules. I'll be fired."

"But if it weren't, would you?"

Merlin hesitated a bit too long while looking at Arthur's lips, and Arthur took that as a yes, briefly smiling before reaching to kiss Merlin again. Merlin slowly pulled away before Arthur could make contact.

"OK, enough. Give us your wet clothes before you ruin your sheets."

Arthur's eyes widened, and he slowly and carefully undressed, handing over item after sopping item, looking the whole time at Merlin, who impassively met his gaze in favor of letting his eyes wander over Arthur's muscles, which were exactly as well defined as Merlin had imagined them to be. Arthur bent down to pick up his boxers, still dripping, and Merlin did his best not to blush at the intensity with which Arthur looked at him as he handed them over nor laugh at the strangeness of the situation.

"Thank you. I'll go hang these up."

He went into Arthur's en-suite bathroom and draped everything carefully over the side of the tub. Then he took a deep breath, steeling himself to deal with a now completely nude and semi-aroused Arthur. Upon his reentry, Arthur said, "It's not improper."

"It is improper. Besides, I don't think your father would be happy if I were to fool around with you. With Morgana would probably be more acceptable, but still. The help do not have trysts with the family. It's Butlering 101."

"Father knows about me."

"Even so."

"And he doesn't care. He wouldn't care if you were like me."

"I think he would."

"He wouldn't."

"It's different because I'm not his son. I'm just a servant. Why should he be OK with it? And you don't even know if I share your...inclinations."

"But you do. I know you do."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"Gwaine."

Merlin blushed. Of course Gwaine would've told Arthur.

"And it's not improper because you're not our butler. I fired you."

"Remembered that, have you?"

"Yes. So I can kiss you all I want tonight. In fact, I can fire you every evening and rehire you every morning."

"It doesn't work like that, dear."

"Do you not like me?"

"I like you very much. I'm just not going to sleep with you."

"Why not?"

"You know why not."

"We could get a new butler. We've had loads of butlers. I'm sure we could find another."

"This isn't why this job has such a high turnover rate, is it?"

Arthur scoffed. "Don't be silly. Most butlers are old and ugly and not at all funny and can't play piano or do card tricks or have those cheekbones or rescue me from drowning. They're not smart like you, or kind like you, they don't have goofy ears. Y'know what you are?"

"What am I?"

"You're luminous."

"Am I now?"

Arthur was closing in on him. "Yes, luminous. Your eyes, mostly. They light up your face like a Broadway marquee. Your smile regularly renders me temporarily blind. Your lips are soft, too. I knew they would be. Gorgeously soft, like, I dunno, goose-down pillows, except I want to bite them. Not pillows, no. Soft the way clouds look." By now he'd backed Merlin up against the wall, his chest very nearly brushing against Merlin's, Merlin's upraised hands ghosting against it. "And these fingers. I've had dreams about these fingers." He grasped them and laced them through his own, kissing the knuckles, ignoring Merlin's attempts to speak. Merlin cleared his throat and Arthur leaned forward and kissed Merlin again, insistently, firmly, not a trace of drunken fumbling now. This time it was nearly a minute before Merlin could bring himself to break the kiss.

"Go to sleep Arthur."

Arthur pressed warm kisses to his jaw and neck. "Stay with me."

"Arthur—"

"No, just, sit by the bed until I fall asleep. Please."

"I suppose you'd like a bedtime story too."

"Of course not, I'm not a child."

Arthur kept hold of Merlin's hand and walked to his bed. Merlin felt like a total hypocrite for ogling Arthur's muscular ass and wonderfully shaped thighs, but there you are. Arthur climbed under the covers and closed his eyes, rubbing his thumb against Merlin's palm. Merlin sat by Arthur's side for the fifteen minutes or so until Arthur's breathing slowed and deepened, then he kissed Arthur's knuckles, extracted his fingers from Arthur's, and left the room quietly. Looking at the trail of water from the door upstairs and down the hall to the billiard room, he sighed and headed to the hall closet for the mop and the linen closet for towels and blankets for the boys.

The next morning was Sunday, and Uther always insisted the family eat together on Sundays. Apparently it was a tradition from when his wife was alive. So Merlin had to face Morgana's wrath by waking her with only promises of food instead of the food itself. He still looked forward to waking her more than Arthur on this particular morning, even with her unpleasant mood after yesterday's fight with Arthur (over comments made by Arthur to a young man Morgana had been flirting with at a luncheon. Something about foot fungus, Merlin gathered). He stalled outside the door for a while, then decided best to just wake Arthur and joke his way through any awkwardness. There was sure to be awkwardness. On his part, naturally. Arthur usually felt nothing resembling embarrassment or shame. Whatever. Merlin could be calm and cool and generally cucumberian. He'd been pretty good at maintaining a professional demeanor lately. He could serve up gravitas and dignity along with sausages and orange juice. Yes. He knocked, waited a few seconds, and entered. Arthur was sprawled on his stomach, uncovered from head to the bottom of his arse. Merlin took a look and resolved to ignore it. After another quick look. There. He gently shook Arthur's shoulder.

"Arthur, wake up. It's Sunday morning."

Groan in response.

"I've got a hangover remedy. It'll make the little green men go away."

Arthur rolled over and lifted his head. Merlin placed the glass to his lips and Arthur drank.

"That's really awful."

"That means it's working. A bit more."

He drank again and pulled a face.

"Good. Well done. Now put on some trousers and get downstairs for breakfast."

"What happened last night?"

"You got drunk."

"Obviously. I mean, why am I naked?"

"You don't remember swimming in the fountain?" Arthur looked confused. "Well you swam in the fountain. We all did. You insisted."

"Are the guys still here?"

"No, I've had to send them packing. No guests to Sunday breakfast. Them's the rules."

"Where are my clothes?"

"In the tub. Still drying, I'd expect."

Arthur looked toward the bathroom and back at Merlin, then at the bathroom, then back at Merlin. Comprehension, confusion, smug comprehension.

"I kissed you last night, didn't I?"

"Ah. Yes. In the fountain."

"Obviously. I remember the fountain. I mean after that."

"Erm. Yes, you did."

"You kissed me back."

"Check again. I didn't."

"Yes, you did."

"Well it seemed impolite not to."

"Well then come over here and be polite."

"No."

"You held my hand until I fell asleep, I remember now! Aw, Merlin, you mother hen! That's so sweet. Come, give us a kiss."

"No, Arthur, you're going to put on clothes, go downstairs, and suffer through breakfast with your weird family. There will be no kissing."

Arthur pouted. "None at all?"

"Not even a little."

"You're ruining my life, I hope you know that."

"Good, I'm succeeding, then. Every morning I ask myself, 'How can I make Arthur a little more miserable today?' and the list inevitably starts with, 'No kissing.' I write down other ideas and keep track of my general progress in my diary. Wouldn't do to lose focus."

"Well at least you're goal-oriented. I hate people who are content to rest on their laurels."

He stood up and Merlin turned his back to give Arthur privacy (or, rather, to prevent himself from staring and undermining the no kissing speech he'd just given). "Be downstairs in five minutes or I'll send Morgana after you."

"Morgana won't do a single thing you ask. She's hated you since that magic trick you volunteered her for. She was really embarrassed. I thought the moustache looked good, myself. You also knocked her into the pool while saving me. Ruined her dress, underthings, shoes, hair, makeup, entire evening, possibly her life."

"I wondered why she disliked me so much."

"And she thinks you're not good at your job and that you're taking advantage of our kindness , essentially stealing whatever it is that we pay you from our bank accounts and thus from her."

"Huh."

"You're also insufferable. There's that too."

"Naturally. Five minutes."

Merlin understood Arthur's reluctance to go to breakfast. Meals with his family were always an ordeal, even when he wasn't hungover. Morgana was often snappish and made clear her contempt for the Pendragon men and generally every other human being except her half-sister Morgause and Gwen. Uther was either taciturn or in a lecturey patriarch mood. Arthur wanted to talk but they usually ended up fighting or sitting in cold silence.

This particular morning was the first day of the new maid, Freya. She was a sweet little thing, very pretty and incredibly shy. She was actually rather meek and unpromising, and Gwen was too busy helping Cook to prepare the meal to give her any sort of training or preparation. She accidentally spilled coffee on Uther and dropped a tray, breaking a few pieces of Morgana's favorite china, and a strand of her curly hair ended up in Arthur's eggs, and the whole breakfast went so badly that even though a few harsh words from Uther and Morgana were all she received, Merlin found her crying while cleaning out one of the fireplaces.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

She sniffled. "Nothing."

"Why're you crying?"

"I'm not."

"OK then. See you around" And then he left and she started sobbing. He came back. "That was a joke. Here, put that down. It can wait. Come with me."

He helped her up and took her to the kitchen, where he made her tea and explained how things in the house worked, how to serve from the left, where the cleaning supplies were, how often and where they were used, how Arthur liked his sweaters to be folded and not hung up, that Morgana was most amenable after lunch, that Uther's mood depended on the issues being discussed in the House of Lords today and that he would probably forget about her clumsiness before the week was out, and other such helpful tips he'd picked up in the two months or so he'd been there. On their second cup of tea Gwen came in and apologized and shared even more of her considerable knowledge, and they ate some strawberries left over from Cook's tartlets, and by the time the pot was finished Freya was smiling and talking normally. She left to finish cleaning out that fireplace, and Gwen smiled at Merlin.

"That was nice of you, to come to her rescue like that."

"Not especially. Everyone would have done the same."

"She's a very pretty girl."

"I suppose so, yeah." Silence for a bit, then: "Did you have a nice time on your day off yesterday?"

"Oh, yes. I did."

"Do anything in particular?"

"Lance took me dancing."

"I wondered why he wasn't at Arthur's little party. Are you two--?"

She blushed prettily. "Not yet. To be honest, I'd like to be, but so far no. I'm trying not to get my hopes up. Domestics aren't really supposed to be involved with, you know, their betters."

"Nonsense. You're friends with Morgana, I'm friends with Arthur and Gwaine and all of them. Last night they insisted I join them as if there was no difference between us because there isn't."

"I'm not talking about just being friends, Merlin."

"Ah. That might be a bit harder to swing. Shouldn't, though."

"I agree. But it's not up to us."

"Yeah."

Silence. Then:

"So how was your little party, then? When I came home everyone was soaking wet and jousting with billiard cues. Seemed like a good time. Where were you?"

"Tucking Arthur in. He made me carry him upstairs. I practically had to read him a bedtime story to get him to go to sleep."

Gwen smiled.

"Would you believe that he's different since you showed up? He was never really here, it was always either sport or a party. He's around more, he talks to me and Cook, sometimes he even helps us with dishes or dusting. He never did that before. I'm glad you're such good friends with him."

"I'm not, he's a right nuisance," Merlin replied, but he was smiling.

They finished their afternoon duties. Merlin sat in the library when he heard music. And not Arthur's gramophone, but the piano. He ventured down. Morgana was playing. He hadn't heard her play before. She was good, better than he was. He clapped when she finished.

"Ah, Merlin. Join me."

"I don't think I should."

"Are your duties finished?"

"Yes."

"Then join me. Arthur says you play very well."

"I wouldn't trust Arthur's judgment there."

"Nevertheless."

He sat next to her on the bench. She'd never allowed him to be in such close proximity. She smelled nice.

"I apologize for the way I've treated you, Merlin," she said, launching into a duet. He recognized it and joined in on secundo. "I really haven't given you a fair chance after our rather disastrous first meeting, and that was wrong of me. Though your methods are unconventional and your attitude unprofessional and undisciplined, I can't deny that you are an effective butler and that you bring a certain something to the house. And by all accounts you seem to be a good person. Arthur likes you, at any rate, which doesn't mean much. But Gwen approves of you as well, and I trust her judgment implicitly."

_What's brought this on? What does she want?_

"All of this is to say that I ask you to forgive me and that I hope we can be friends." She tinkled out the last few notes, turned to Merlin, and smiled.

"Uh, thanks Morgana. I accept your apology." 

"And the other part?"

"I don't see why we couldn't be friends."

She smiled and it seemed sincere enough. "Excellent! Thank you, Merlin." And she launched into another duet. He joined in again. They played about half an hour, not saying much, until they finished their piece, Morgana stood up, closed the piano, said she'd enjoyed playing with him, ruffled his hair in an almost affectionate gesture, and left the room. Merlin got off the bench and ran smack into Arthur.

"Hello _Merlin_."

"Hi Arthur."

"You've been playing with Morgana? It sounded good. You're really talented. Why were you playing with her?"

"Because she asked me to."

"Why?"

"She said she wanted to apologize for how shirty she's been with me, and that she hopes we can be friends."

Arthur frowned. "And you believe that?"

"Yes...?"

"This is part of a scheme somehow. I don't believe her for one second. She's up to something."

"Is it so hard for you to believe anyone would want to be friends with me?"

"Not anyone. Just Morgana."

"She seemed sincere. She smiled at me."

"Don't be taken in by her smiles and womanly charms. She's up to no good. She's poison! She's never nice to someone just because."

"She's nice to Gwen."

"Everyone's nice to Gwen. Mark my words, no good will come of this."

"You're being overdramatic."

"I'm being under dramatic. I am remarkably calm and clearheaded, a paragon of restraint."

Merlin snorted.

"Well then. Good. Don't believe me. It'll all end in ruin, but at least I'll have the satisfaction of knowing I tried to help a friend and will be fully justified in saying 'I told you so,' which I will do often and loudly."

"I have no doubt you will, sir."

"Now get back to work, Merlin."

"Right away sir."

* *

It was strange having Morgana be nice to him. She asked him questions and seemed genuinely interested in the responses, she offered help, sometimes they played piano together while Freya cleaned out the fireplace and Arthur sat on the couch pretending to read but really being torn between enjoyment of the music and jealousy at the sight of Merlin sitting side by side with Morgana, of all people. One such afternoon the doorbell rang right after they finished. Merlin quickly answered the door. He returned to the room bearing a fruit basket and floral arrangement. Arthur was sprawled dramatically on the loveseat, his arm thrown over his eyes.

"This has come for you, sir, from a Miss Sophia. Where would you like me to put it?"

"Anywhere. What do flowers matter when grief and despair are crawling closer every second?"

"Yes, sir. Shall I put them on the piano?"

"Yes, decorate your grave," he hissed.

"Oh, ignore him, Merlin. I'm not leading you to your doom. Sit up, Arthur, you look like a swooning maiden."

Freya giggled into her sleeve.

"So that date with Sophia must have gone well. Flowers _and_ fruit. She must have found your attentions pleasing."

"She found my inheritance pleasing," Arthur said, leaping up, striding across the room, and inspecting the basket. It also included, he was pleased to see, baked goods, so he snatched up a brownie and chewed loudly as he read the card.

"Well it is your best quality. I take it she's asking to see you again. Will you be indulging her?"

Arthur glanced at Merlin, whose disinterested expression he seemed to find galling. "Eh, why not? No one else seems to find me pleasing." Merlin managed not to roll his eyes, but just barely.

"I'm so glad you've realized," Morgana said lightly. "Your self-awareness is positively charming."

Arthur flopped down again and started sulking.

"Aren't you going to call her?"

"Later. Not right now."

"Don't have the stomach for it so soon after breakfast?"

"Don't want to seem too eager."

"Ah, yes. Waiting so as not to appear eager makes you seem even more desperate to impress. You men with your silly little egos."

His duties finished for the time being, Merlin returned to the library until it was time to start preparing for afternoon tea. He spent most of his free time there, reading and writing and just sitting in the few moments of quiet he could gather before Arthur and Morgana started squabbling again. He removed a few letters from his inside pocket—letters addressed to him that he hadn't a chance to read yet. He was still looking them over twenty minutes later, the wheels in his head turning, when Arthur came in and sat next to him.

"What're you reading?"

"Love letters," Merlin replied, tucking them away calmly.

"The only one who would ever write you letters that say 'I love you' in them would be your mum."

"And you."

"I don't need to write you letters, I live in the same house as you. If I wanted you to know I could just tell you. Or leave you notes on your pillows or on the bathroom mirror or something. Spell it out with frosting on cakes."

"That's so sweet it's actually a little nauseating."

"That's why I haven't done it. And thank you for making light of my soul-crushing unrequited love for you. It helps a lot."

"I live to serve."

"Tomorrow I'm going to need your help—"

"Can't. It's my day off tomorrow."

"Damn. I was hoping you'd forgot."

"Forget that I get to spend the day away from you and your pouting and terrible jokes? Impossible!"

"You wound me. Do you have any special plans?"

"I have a few matters of business to attend to, but I'll also be stopping by Harrod's for a gift for my mum's birthday and seeing a picture with Gwaine."

"Oh, what picture?"

"The new Powell and Loy one, I think. Gwaine wants to marry Myrna Loy."

"She's too good for him."

"So I said."

"So...you and Gwaine. What's the story there?"

"He's one of my oldest and dearest friends."

"And--?"

"And that's all. I actually think he's seeing your Sophia at the moment."

"She's not _my_ Sophia! She's all wrong for me, don't you think?"

"It's not my place to say."

"Your place! You don't have to be my servant when we're alone, you can tell me what you really think. Or even when we're not alone. I'm always interested."

"Well, I agree that she's all wrong for you."

"Good. And--?"

"And what?"

"And do you have any ideas on who is all right for me?"

"Should I have?"

"Well I've got ideas on who is all right for you."

"Ooh, dying to hear those."

"Well they mostly alternate between 'me' and 'anyone but Morgana.'"

"This again."

"I'm warning you. She is never nice to anyone without having an ulterior motive."

"Your affection for your sister is truly touching."

"You'll see, and you'll rue the day you didn't take my warning seriously."

"Of course I will, pet," he said, patting Arthur's hand. "Don't worry, I'm equal to whatever Morgana can dish out." He took his hand off Arthur's, picked up the volume of Sherlock Holmes stories, began reading, and tried to ignore Arthur staring at him. After a solid two minutes of this, Merlin said, "Would you like me to read it aloud, since you're just sitting there?"

"Sure."

Merlin was good at voices, it turned out. He did different ones for each character and Arthur laughed delightedly every time. They got through two and a half stories before someone rang the doorbell and Merlin had to answer it, and then it was time for tea.

The next morning, Merlin slept in until 10, a blissfully long morning, as Uther usually woke at 6 and required Merlin to bring his food, letters, and news. He ate a small breakfast and was walking across the lawn when he found himself accosted by Morgana, who was sunbathing on the ledge of the fountain in a white bathing suit with red polka dots.

"Merlin! Enjoying your day off?"

"Immensely."

"I don't suppose you could help me put on sunblock, could you?"

_Subtle. Subtle and original. Well done_.

"No, sorry, I'm awfully late."

"Got a date?"

"No, just things to do."

She stuck out a leg to block his passing. "Do you not like me, Merlin?"

He sidestepped around her. "Oh, I wouldn't say that."

She sat up and grabbed his hand. "Good. Why don't you cancel what you've got planned today and spend the day with me? We could get to know each other." While she spoke she pressed her body very close to his and wrapped a few strands of his hair around her fingers.

"I think I know you quite well enough, Morgana."

"Really? Enlighten me."

"You won't hold it against me?"

"It's your day off. Say whatever you like."

"You belong to that unfortunate category of humanity I would call the Society Brat. A spoiled child in a woman's body who believes she will get everything she wants because she's always gotten it, either with her looks or with her wealth. You have plenty of malicious intent but not enough brains to be cunning and not enough sense to pursue anything other than childish games to get revenge for what are mostly imagined slights, unworthy of being noticed even by a butler on his day off."

She sat back on her heels looking as if she'd been slapped in the face.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," he placed his hat on his head and strolled away. He didn't need to look back to know that Arthur stood at his bedroom window and had likely seen the whole thing. The encounter shouldn't have put him in a bad mood, but it did. Not for long, of course. His appointments in the city went well, at lunch with Gwaine he had several martinis, and throughout the film he was remarkably cheerful. Things were not as pleasant in the Pendragon house. Gwen was sick and Freya was just getting over a cold, so there was a lot of work to do but Arthur was incredibly bored. He wandered into the kitchen and found Freya washing the dishes from dinner. She sniffled while doing so.

"Do you need any help?"

"No, sir, I can manage."

"Please, let me do something. I'm dying of boredom."

"You can dry, if you like."

"Thanks." She sniffled again. "Are you ill?"

"Just getting over a cold, sir." 

"Ah, yes. I remember now. You're the one who got Gwen sick, aren't you?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Well I hope you're pleased. Gwen sick and Merlin out gallivanting around—it's your fault there's no one to talk to but Morgana."

"I'm sorry, sir, I—"

"I'm kidding, Freya. I'm here talking to you, you're hardly no one. And it's hardly your fault Merlin's off."

She made a noise of agreement but said nothing else.

"It's not your fault he's so wonderful and funny and always there when you need him—except today--but so distant and never responding to anything except with jokes and insolence and he's perfect. And then he takes the day off to go alone to see Gwaine, probably at some club with a girl on his lap or something equally dreadful, someone who doesn't care about him at all."

Freya sniffled again and turned her back.

"Are you cr--?" A look of understanding flashed across his face. "You too?"

Freya nodded and Arthur immediately pulled her into a hug.

"He's really awful, isn't he?" he said into her hair.

"He's wonderful."

"I know. Isn't it awful?"

She nodded. They were still standing thus when the very wonderful and awful man in question walked in, very buoyant, indeed, whistling. He stopped when he saw them.

"What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"Freya's just feeling a bit overworked, is all, considering you just up and left all day while Gwen's ill and she's still feeling unwell. It's all your fault, but you can't help, so just go away, we're sick of you."

"Freya, go get some rest. I'll finish your duties and explain it to Uther if he asks, which he won't."

She nodded and left without apologizing or asking if he was sure. _She must be feeling really terrible_. He hung up his hat and rolled up his sleeves, taking up the sponge Freya had discarded. Arthur sat on the counter and continued drying.

"So, Merlin. How was Miss Loy?"

"Charming as ever."

"And Gwaine?"

"The same as always."

"So it was a good day off?"

"Yes, I'd say so."

"Damn. I don't like it when you have good days off. That means you'll always take them."

"I'm afraid you'll have to get used to doing without me. I won't be your butler forever."

"Of course not. But you'll always be around, right?"

"You might have to prepare yourself for a future in which you don't see me for days at a time. I might someday get something called 'my own life' and it'll be where I go off and do things and they might not involve you."

"What kinds of things?"

"Oh, I don't know. A job somewhere. School. Maybe I'll even get married and move out of London."

"I think those are all rubbish ideas and you shouldn't do them. Or, alternately, you should take me with you because if you go I'll just follow you and pop in every few days anyway."

Merlin smiled. "I have no doubt of it, you silly git."

"If you did go, which of course you won't because why would you?, you'd let me visit, wouldn't you?"

"Of course. You're one of my best friends when you're not being an annoying ponce. And besides, you saved my life."

"Um, you've got that backwards, mate."

Merlin looked up at Arthur. "You gave me a job when I had nowhere else to go, no one in this city to rely on, and you have treated me with every kindness. I was struggling for air against unemployment and hopelessness, and you threw me a life raft. You'll always be welcome."

The stupidly-in-love expression that Arthur seemed to specialize in found its way to his face again, but Merlin didn't have time to enjoy the moment, as Uther called for him. He dried his hands and walked to the sitting room, where Morgana was sitting, anxiously fiddling with her bracelets.

"Yes, sir?"

"Morgana's pearl necklace has gone missing. Do you know anything about its disappearance?"

"No, sir."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, sir."

"You haven't been near Morgana's room or seen anyone near it?"

"No, sir. I was gone all day and haven't been to her room or even my own since arriving here half an hour ago. Arthur can vouch for that, as can Freya."

Arthur began to loudly defend Merlin's honor but Uther cut him off.

"So if we go to your bedroom we'll not find the pearls?"

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, sir. She's likely hidden them—under the mattress, I expect."

"That's exactly where we found them. Are you saying you didn't put them there?"

"I am, sir. If I had stolen them, I'd have hidden them in a cleverer spot and sold them today, my day off, when I could go to a pawn shop without arousing suspicion with my absence."

"So you're saying that Morgana is framing you for stealing her pearl necklace."

"She's doing such a characteristically terrible job of it that I have no doubt there's any other explanation."

"Why would she bother to do that?"

"We had a bit of an argument this morning, sir. She asked me what I thought of her and I fear I hurt her feelings. She is trying to repay me, thus proving my opinion of her correct."

"Are you drunk, Merlin?"

"A bit. But it does not affect my powers of observation, just my ability to keep my thoughts to myself."

"If you have stolen them, I'll have to fire you."

"As well you should. But I didn't steal them, and I would prefer if I left your service on better terms. If you would like me to leave, I shall resign immediately, but let it be known that I am doing so of my own free will."

Uther looked puzzled. "I believe you about the necklace—Morgana's pulled similar stunts before—but why are you so keen on leaving us?"

"I don't want to, sir, but I've been accepted into a pre-medical program, and I unfortunately won't be able to work for you and go to school at the same time, so I'll be leaving in two weeks anyway."

Arthur made a sound of objection but Uther cut him off. "Well, congratulations, Merlin! I had no idea you'd even applied."

"I told as few people as possible, sir, in case I failed. To save face, you understand."

"Where will you be living? Have you got it all sorted?"

"Yes, sir, I've a flat and I've even been offered a job at a bookshop to help make ends meet, when I'm not studying."

"Well, best of luck to you, Merlin. I release you from my service whenever you wish to go, and will be happy to write you a letter should you need one. Just give me a few days' notice before you go." 

"Thank you, sir."

"But Papa! My necklace!"

Uther sighed. "Morgana, this trick didn't work when you were little and it hasn't aged well. I indulge you, so it's my fault, but your antics are getting to be tiresome." Arthur snickered. "The same goes for you, Arthur. You're just as wildly immature as she is. Now both of you leave me alone, I'd like to enjoy a few minutes of silence."

Morgana stomped off to her room and Merlin bowed his head and retreated to the kitchen, Arthur following on his heels.

"Congratulations on your school thing, Merlin, but you're not really leaving, are you?"

"'Fraid so. All good things must come to an end."

"But I'll still see you, right? At Gwaine's parties and things like that?"

"I'm not sure how much time I'll have for parties."

"And you're not sad at all."

"I'm mostly excited. It's a dream come true."

"I didn't even know you wanted to be a doctor."

"You didn't think I was going to be your butler forever, did you?" He turned on the water and resumed washing dishes.

"Well, no, but I...I just thought..." He looked down at his feet.

"Hey, I'm not leaving for two weeks at least, and I'll still be in the city. And you'll know where my flat will be because I'm expecting you to help me move. Put those muscles to good use."

"You like my muscles, do you?" Arthur grinned.

"Ah, there, it's back. That indefatigable spirit, so intimately connected to your ego."

"What did you say to Morgana that made her so angry this morning?"

"Couldn't hear from your window?"

"I'd just like to hear you say it again."

"No."

"Admit I was right about her, though."

"Never. She'll be a good person someday, once she grows out of this foolish pettiness. Just like you'll be not-so-bad when you grow out of this egotistical prat stage."

"You'll be gone by then, so how will you know?"

"Who do you think's going to be the one to remind you of your many flaws and thus help you stop being an egotistical prat?"

"Merlin."

"Yes?"

"It's still your day off."

"Yes."

"And you're not really in danger of being fired."

"I suppose that's true, yes." 

"Good."

Arthur placed his hands on Merlin's waist, pulled him close, and kissed him. Instead of resisting this time, Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur's neck and kissed him until the back of Arthur's hair, his neck, and his back were covered in wet spots from Merlin's hands. They luxuriated in each other until the water in the sink threatened to overflow. Merlin turned back to the sink and shut off the faucet.

"Now stop standing around grinning like an imbecile and finish drying the dishes."

Arthur picked up his towel and resumed drying, but he didn't stop grinning for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this years and years ago and am only posting it because I desperately need attention and I want to encourage more people to write classic film AUs.


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